


Tabula Rasa

by Tokine



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, the genocidal maniac won this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 05:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4509693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tokine/pseuds/Tokine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which we discover this blank slate is not so clean</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tabula Rasa

I wouldn’t say that we were broken; that’d imply that we could be fixed. No, you were gone, and all I was left with was that coffee cup with the chip in the handle- I’d made you a saccharine substance you dared to refer to as coffee in it every morning, three sugars and generous measuring of flavored creamer. You left it here, you left me here, and two hundred and twenty six reminders of your existence- that’s what the current count is anyway. You were always absentminded after all, I have no doubts that the number will increase. I walked through our house, our home, and the walls stared me down. The plants missed you and your nonsensical songs, and I did not imagine the wilting of the leaves as I stretched out my hand. Or perhaps I did, as my mind undulated often, slipping seamlessly from reality to night(and morning and noon and afternoon and evening)mares. At least I was partially aware. I suppose I’d lose that soon, just as I started losing memories of you. I suppose it’d be an inverse-squared relationship, as time stretched on so would I lose my memories of you, on and on and on until you were just a whisper from the past instead of a scream. Sometimes I’d lie in bed for an inordinate amount of time, slipping my finger through the holes in the well-loved (obtaining most of those holes when in the process of exemplifying that love- it was my fault, my roughness of course, because you could never hurt anything, living or alive, even in your subconscious) blankets, waiting with glazed over eyes for you to slap the snooze button so we could cuddle, coexist, breathe in each other’s presence for just fifteen more minutes. My list of fears was long: grotesqueness and humanity and the glint of a gun’s muzzle positioned right between my eyes. I’m a terrorist, after all, first and foremost. Never would I have thought you should have been on that list of frights. The infamous charming professor of the Kalos region, known for his bright smile and a brighter mind, a potential threat to the esteemed head of Lysandre Corporation, known now as a genocidal mastermind? It was preposterous, to put it lightly. But you’d chipped me down, piece by piece and circuit by circuit, stripping me down to the basis of my humanity, every insecurity and imperfection yours and yours alone. You held the heart of the machine in your hands, praised that inefficient, selfish piece of me and coaxed it out of its shell.

_It’s 12:42 and that’s two hours, forty two minutes, sixteen seconds and counting behind schedule. But for some inefficient reason that I can attribute to be the bony fingers threading through my hair and massaging my skull, I can’t sleep. This is odd, because this is a soothing action that mimics the action a mother might take with their child, and my brain releases dopamine to reward me for seeking out human affection. Happy and sleepless energy made for an odd juxtaposition. I could recognize the frustration of my confusion, acknowledge the sourness that it infused into my thought process and set it aside to make an informed decision, and oh I realized what I wanted. There were words, a million poetic ways to ask for what I wanted, but you knew desperation in my eyes exactly from what I desired-craved-required. The brush of chapped lips against my own and I was content._

I’ve made a thousand little discoveries from domestic to scientific – namely fixing the curtains and rewiring the Holocaster again for an even longer battery life. But every time I do, I try to call you, I’m reminded on why I’m making such rapid progress. After all, no one’s there to pull me from my work, to pull me into bed at night and arrange themselves amongst my limbs. We didn’t live opulently- after all, you’d rather spend money on the Pokemon and I’d rather you be happy- but now I missed my bachelor lifestyle’s distractions. I had no need for them when I had you, but now I do not and so a need is there. After all, there was only one road to you, and it was a one way street. I would go to hell and back for you, but I fear the place that you’ve gone they wouldn’t let me in. That’s irrelevant of course. There was no reason for you to have gone there, with the preparations I made here. My silly Augustine, you always had such a strong nonsensical side.

_You voiced your amazement, and despite the frustration bubbling up in me I’d denied, denied, denied. After all, if it wasn’t perfect yet, what use did I have of it? My newest prototype, and progress wasn’t going smoothly. I’d snapped at you, telling you to cease your babbling, and then I was the loud, loud, loud one, but apologies don’t fix anything, they’re just a smiley face sticker on top of a gaping void where love should have been. You understand, that’s the worst part, because it means it wasn’t the first or the second or the third time. No, this was argument three hundred and thirty six, and I felt another piece of my heart ripping out as you hid the hurt in our eyes and smiled. Like I was just another fool who would fall for the same old tricks you played on everyone. I knew you Sycamore, and I thought you knew me enough to realize I’d see right through that act._

Why did you leave me darling? How could I have loved you more fully? I made a world for you darling. I made a world where you were safe and sound and no one could ever take take take away from you ever again. I knew, I always knew, they fed upon your kindness like ravenous vultures, and I saw the jutting edges of your collarbones and the slender shape of your thighs only grow more pronounced. Your body aged but your mind did not, and alight were the eyes that gave and gave and gave. But did you not realize? We’d pledged to each other, five years and eight months and two days ago that in sickness and in health you were mine and I was yours. So what they took of you, they took of me, oh, how I tried to keep you locked up for your own good. But you did not listen, and so I wiped the world clean. Tabula rasa, a blank slate. A new beginning for you and me, and the perfect time for a renewal of vows and the addition of a couple more that I’d spent the better part of these five years perfecting. After all, that’s what you deserved, the very best I could offer. But you didn’t seem to like my impromptu present. You’d sent children after me, of all silliness, and I assumed that was your way of playing with me, the dance we’d long grown accustomed to, where you’d never give into me passively. But I always broke you down, with kisses or with Gyrados in this case, but instead of laughing like you always did, this time you cried. You cried and cried and cried and then went silent and then

_Eye contact. Well known and used in polite society to ascertain the attention of the other was focused solely on oneself. But when the other party held the weight of the world in sorrow of his eyes and a gun to his forehead? “Augustine, I…” bang. bang. And how romantic, Lysandre thought, he even left a bullet in the chamber for me._


End file.
